Awake
by star of david
Summary: As Draco Malfoy's time grows near, Harry Potter will do everything in his power to keep him. A song fic to Secondhand Serenade's 'Awake'. Written before reading HPDH, so it might be better if you don't think about Book7 as you read this.


**Awake**  
by star of david  
Harry/Draco 

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own the characters in this story; they were created by the genius, JKRowling. I do own the plot.

**SUMMARY:** _"Will you stay awake for me?"_ As Draco Malfoy's time grows near, Harry Potter will do everything in his power to keep him. A song fic to Secondhand Serenade's _Awake_.

* * *

Twenty-year-old Harry Potter lay awake in his room in Grimmauld Place. He checked the time -- it was nearly midnight. For some reason, he couldn't sleep.

Three years had passed since he began occupying the house his godfather had left him. With Voldemort gone and everyone in peace, he had felt it was safe to stay here permanently. It would be lonely in the big house at times, but he often came along to ease the loneliness.

A handsome brown owl suddenly swooped in Harry's open bedroom window. He instantly recognized it as Draco Malfoy's owl. A piece of parchment was neatly tied to the owl's left leg. The owl flew around the room once before landing on Harry's bedside table. Harry sat up and gently removed the parchment, and the owl flew away as instantly as it came.

Harry unfurled the parchment. It contained a very short note.

_Harry,_

_I'm coming over at midnight. We need to talk._

_Draco_

This bothered Harry mildly. It seemed too formal for Draco. And it was his first note without the words "I love you" written in it.

Harry dismissed the ugly feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was overreacting to something he didn't even know, he told himself. Draco was fine. Everything was fine. Everything was great. How could it not be? It was three blissful years with the blond boy that kept Harry alive.

Harry lay down and checked the time again. 11:57. Draco'd be there in three minutes -- he was never late. Never.

At 11:59, Harry heard the familiar, almost deafening popping sound. Draco had arrived.

"Got coffee?" were Draco's first words. Harry was pleased to see Draco in his bed clothes -- nothing but a thin t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts.

"I'll whip up a batch," said Harry, taking out his wand. He flicked it, and the coffee maker sitting on the kitchen counter downstairs began making coffee. Coffee cups began filling themselves with the freshly-brewed coffee, and within a few minutes were on their way to Harry's bedroom, where the two boys were lying in bed together.

"So, what do we need to talk about?" said Harry after a long sip of coffee. He placed the cup on the bedside table, where it began refilling itself again.

Draco finished a cupful of coffee in one go. He placed his empty cup beside Harry's. He showed Harry his left forearm.

"The Dark Mark," said Harry flatly. "Draco, he's gone, and you weren't even really a Death Eater! Haven't we talked about this a long time ago?" Harry was downright disappointed and annoyed. Honestly, he thought Draco's midnight visit meant him scratching Draco's itch. He wasn't liking this at all.

"I know. But there's something you need to know." The blond boy's face was dark and shadowed. In his eyes was a secret he desperately needed to get off his chest. Harry saw this and instantly dropped his feelings of annoyance.

"What is it?" he asked, gently touching the hideous mark tattooed on Draco's forearm.

"There's no easy way to tell you this, so I'll just get on with it," said Draco.

_This must be really bad,_ Harry said in his mind. His heart began thumping like mad. Draco rolled over and faced the opposite side, his back towards Harry.

"This Mark┘is cursed," he said slowly. "I didn't know until a few months ago. But apparently, this isn't just a mark that sets Death Eaters apart. It isn't just communication. It's a lot more than that."

Harry sat up. "What exactly are you talking about?" he demanded.

"When I denounced being a Death Eater...when I turned against Voldemort...this mark, it released a poison," Draco said firmly. "Since it's branded into me, the poison goes directly into my bloodstream."

Harry was dumbstruck. "You mean -- ?"

"I've been poisoned for the past three years, yes," Draco finished for him.

"But -- how -- three years?"

"Yes, I'm quite the miracle, apparently," said Draco, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Harry found it hard not to smile -- now this was the Draco he knew and loved. "Those bastards in St. Mungo's said I should've been dead by now."

Draco sat up, removed his shirt, and lay back down. Harry, too, lay down, his head resting on Draco's bare chest.

"You should've seen their faces, babe," Draco told Harry. "It was like I had some contagious disease. Their faces were all scrunched up."

"It isn't every day you get to see and examine a Dark Mark, love," Harry replied. "Forgive them." He stuck his tongue out at Draco.

Draco's face turned grim again. He drank another cupful of coffee before blurting out, "Tonight's my last night."

All color drained from Harry's face as he sat bolt upright again.

"What the fuck do you mean by that?" he demanded fiercely.

"I mean, tonight's my last night," replied Draco. He didn't have enough courage to look Harry in the eye. "Before noon tomorrow, my body will have lost the battle against the Mark's poison."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. "This is a nightmare, wake me up now," he kept muttering, his eyes closed tightly. Voldemort had been dead for three years, yet here he was, ruining Harry's life again! How could Draco be dying? How could he be dying **tonight**? This was all they had? Twelve fucking hours?

Draco reached up and gently pulled Harry towards him, laying his head on his chest. He kissed the untidy mass of black hair gently.

"You can't be dying, Draco," Harry said firmly. "You just can't."

"But I am, love."

"Why are you so calm about all this? You're fucking **dying**, Draco Malfoy! Why are you acting like everything's fine?" Harry was close to hysterical.

"Because I'm with you," Draco said simply.

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but whatever it was on his mind, Draco never heard it out loud, for he had intercepted Harry's arguments with a passionate kiss.

Harry wanted to argue and protest but decided against it. Instead, he allowed himself to get lost in Draco's taste, like he always did. _If this is the last,_ he told himself, _I might as well enjoy it to the fullest._

Draco's kiss was extraordinarily exquisite. Harry didn't know if the prospect of dying made Draco a better kisser, but something was different about the boy. He held Harry closer and tighter than ever before, his tongue explored Harry's mouth more, his taste was different...Harry didn't think it was possible, but Draco was actually a better kisser than before.

Draco trailed small, soft kisses down his throat up to his collarbone. Harry had his eyes closed the whole time, lost in the pleasure. Draco came back up and planted a kiss on Harry's lips.

"You'll be gone by tomorrow," Harry said softly. His head was still on Draco's chest. He could hear the boy's heartbeat -- steady, firm, unwavering.

"You'll be fine, Harry," Draco said. "That's what I've always loved about you. You can stand on your own."

"But I don't want to." Harry knew he sounded like a kid, but he didn't care. "I want to be with you."

"I'll always be with you," said Draco, kissing Harry's scar.

And then there was silence. Silence was never awkward between them. They both enjoyed lying in bed, quite, wrapped in each other's embrace.

"Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you do one last thing for me?"

"Anything, love."

"Will you stay awake for me?"

Draco gave Harry a peculiar look.

"I don't want to miss anything. I want to memorize everything about you. If I could count every strand of blond hair on your head, every pore on your body, I would. I want to hold you, I want to touch every part of you, I want to be last thing you see. I want to breathe the same air you breathe last."

Harry's emerald green eyes were filled with longing and sadness. Draco looked into them and lost himself in the green pools. If this were to be his last night, he'd want nothing more than to spend every second looking into those eyes. He kissed Harry and loved his taste.

It was 1:26 in the morning.

At 9:34, Draco Malfoy breathed his last. The last thing he said was, "I love you, Harry."

His eyes closed at the very moment a tear rolled down Harry Potter's cheek as he said, "I love you, too."


End file.
